


Starship Subject 392

by laughingCat (nekobakaz)



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Aliens, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Author has mental issues, Captivity, Dystopia, Extinction, Freedom Fighters, Gender Issues, Manhandling, Medical Examination, Mental Health Issues, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, POV First Person, POV Original Character, Rebellion, Restraints, Sci-Fi, Science Fiction, Work In Progress, asexuality in dystopia, will add chapters as finish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekobakaz/pseuds/laughingCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to the future. My name is Luka Wilson, and I do not regret any of my actions that have led me to be betrayed by my own species. I refuse to recant.  And now, here I am, suspended in pod on a transport ship, heading offworld and into the hands of the aliens.  There are so many stories of what happens to humans out in space, out of the conservation areas, and I'm about to join them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first work on AO3! I'm going to put it out there that I have a habit of starting works and never getting around to finishing them, so you've been warned. You're also warned that I can be a terrible, horrible person. And I regret none of it.

 

I was roused by tapping on my pod's glass.  Groggily, I thought that it might have been passengers, willing passengers, tapping on my glass again, poking at the novelty of having a human on board.  When the tapping didn't stop, not being shooed away by ship security and staff, I made more of an effort to open my eyes.  

I was still floating in the suspension gel, wires and monitoring devices stuck here and there, a breathing mask and tube firmly over my nose and mouth. The light coming in the viewing ports was different, a different hue, a different angle.  I'd been moved.

The tapping stopped, and there was a thud at the base of the pod.  Slowly, the gel began to drain from the small pod, leaving me sticky and shivering on the padded interior.  But not for long.  A hatch opened, and the aliens reached in, detaching me from the wires and things.  I gasped and filled my lungs with air when they took off the mask, but then clamped my mouth shut.  I wasn't going to speak a single word, not willingly, not to them.

I was lifted out of the pod, the small thing just big enough to hold me.  As I was placed on my feet, I looked up at the aliens.  These were the tall ones, chittering about in a language I definitely didn't know or could speak, and they had too many limbs for any decent creature.  

We were in a large room, with many aliens working on consoles and screens, all of them covered head to toe in their version of biohazard suits. Probably because of me. Everything looked clean, and smooth.  The sedatives in the gel were still affecting me, or else everything looked too white and blurred into other colours in the corners of my eyes.  Two aliens took me by the wrists and started to lead me away.

I looked back at the pod, and saw another alien take a bundle from a compartment. A clear box, with my old stuff inside.  I would probably never see it again, and there was nothing I could do.  I eyed the aliens' many limbs, knowing that if I tried stopping or struggling in my sedated state, they'd probably just pick me up and keep on walking. So I settled for glaring as they brought me to a short closed door on one side of the room.  It was a strange short door, since these aliens were so tall, they wouldn't be able to fit unless they ducked -

A light passed over me, and the door opened. The two aliens gathered me up and placed me on the other side of the perfectly-sized human door.  

The door shut behind me.

I blinked as suddenly, light and seeing made sense.  

The room was a chipper sunflower yellow, tiled but textured under my bare feet.  Looking around, I was in a bit of awe.  In one corner was a shower and bath, with one of those long reaching shower heads with several settings. There was also a toilet, a sink, and a counter with an impressive array of grooming supplies.  Nothing like hair spray and deodorant, I noticed, but they provided bath things like soap, shampoo, conditioner, and body washes.  Next to a large stack of towels, a sign on the wall read in several Earth languages to please feel free to use the faculties.

I touched my gel infused hair.  Even before I had been picked up, it had been a few days between washings.  Lakes were too cold this late in fall, and we weren't always welcomed in the big cities where you could go to a bath house. I eyed that bath tub hungrily.  

I stripped the scrubs the authorities had given me. Finding a basket with a pictorial for putting wet towels, I stuffed my old scrubs at the bottom. I fiddled with the controls of the bath, figuring out how to use it, and spent some time smelling the shampoos and body washes, making my selection. And then I had my bath.

I felt very good to be clean again.  Wasn't quite worth all the trouble though, but a very nice opening gesture.  

Since the floor was textured, I didn't fear slipping, so I didn't bother completely drying off to wander over to the sink and inspect myself in the mirror.  Yes, yes, there I am, quite flat chested, no shape, and young looking.  I almost was released on being a minor, until someone did a DNA identification scan and brought up my actual age.  Whoops.  

Blue eyes and brown hair.  I usually keep it shorter than this, but my good scissor broke, so now it's about chin length.  I still look like a boy when I want to.  I can look like a girl when I want too.

I looked at the counter of grooming supplies.  No scissors. No sharp pointy things that could be used as a weapon. Sigh. Either a general safety precaution or someone read my file. There are combs and brushes, so I fuss with my hair, my only vanity, and use the mirrors to inspect my scars.  

They are watching.  Of course they're watching. No one's in a hurry though, cause I'm here for the rest of my life.  Might as well give as well as I'm going to get.

But really, what else is there for me to do in here? I grab a towel, and dry myself off.  The trouble with short hair is that it kind of ruins your excuse that your hair is still wet because it drys so fast. Will I get to keep my hair?

There's another door on the other side of the room.  I've been avoiding looking at it.  It has a sign that says "when done, clothes through here."  Aliens have terrible grammar.  I pick up all the towels I've used and dropped them into the basket, and kept one last clean one to wrap around myself. Yes, they've seen me naked already.  That's not the point.

I want my stuff back, is the point.  I want to go home.

But I made my choice, a long time ago. I grip the edge of the towel and step through the door.  

 

The next room was also empty.  Just me.  

It was full of shelves, with stacks of clothes.  Not much bigger than the last room, but this time the walls were lined with shelves. There were stacks of clothing, and each shelf had labels for sizing. Another sign, roughly saying to dress myself.

I wandered the stacks for a while, just taking it in.  The sheer amount of clothing! And the colours! And I could pick any of it.  

' _This will be such a pretty prison uniform_ ,' the back of my head said. I stopped, my hand on top of a gorgeous pink shirt.  Slowly, I took another look at the clothes, wiping the beaming grin off my face.  Every piece of clothing in room came of the same pattern, with maybe a different neckline here, a different hemming there.  

A sigh to myself, I found a stack of underwear, and made my selections. Dressing quickly now, I turned and found a corner of soft cloth shoes, more like slippers, really. Tired of being barefoot, I found a pair in my size in black, and put them on. As for clothes, I simply found my sizes and picked a random top, recieved a blue long-shirt that reached mid-thigh. I tried for black pants, but could only find navy in a pants that are a little baggy on me.  It feels like wearing pyjamas. At least it's a comfortable prison uniform.

The sign over the next door said "food this way," and my stomach was starting to growl.  How can you fight aliens when your stomach is growling? I was clean, dressed, and could hit them with my soft pathetic shoe.  

I walked through the next door.

 

Hands - can I even call them hands? No - _paws_ reached out of nowhere and grabbed me.  I screamed.

Oh, I should have expected it. There was no way I was going to continue walking through a series of empty rooms, going on and on and on. But sheesh, out of nowhere?

I couldn't see, it was blurry and I was grabbed, being dragged somewhere.  I lashed out with my fists, hitting whatever had me.

"Get off me! Get off me! Put me DOWN!"

Suddenly, I was let go, and stood blinking.  I turned on my heel and saw a glimpse of a great hairy thing disappear through a sliding door on the far side of the room. The door closed and seemed to blend with the wall. Before I could leap forward to investigate, someone made a sound behind me.  

It wasn't quite a clearing-your-throat sound; it was the sound of someone trying to mimic clearing their throat. Someone would couldn't do it properly. It was an alien sound.  I turned slowly.  

Somehow before, I missed the sight of a table, large enough for a meal set up on one side with an empty chair", and an alien sitting on the other side with a folder open.  The alien made a well-practiced human gesture, inviting me to sit in the empty chair.  "Please, sit and eat."

Apparently my stomach has no sense of danger, because it loudly growled, and I decided not to start things off with a hunger strike quite yet.  I warily approached the chair and sat down. The alien was more human sized, or at least appeared so sitting down, and looked like a human male, so I called it a "he."

I didn't recognize his species from the brochures, but I kept an eye on him as I glanced at my plate. He was bright red, after all.  My food, on the other hand, seemed more Terran, chicken breast with a little sauce, some potato and some green vegetable. A glass of milk to wash it down, and at the side, a few slices of fruit.

"What was that, that grabbed me?" I folded my hands in front of me.  

He glanced at me refusing to eat, then returned to his reading. "That was -" he said a word I couldn't pronounce "- accidentally got in here, was getting it out when you arrived, very bad timing. But you scared it! Gone now." He looked at me and gave me a firm nod.  So. That was the explanation I was going to get, if it wasn't the truth. I met his stare for a moment, then unfolded my hands and picked up my utensils.  Satisfied that I was eating, he went back to his files.

I ate slowly, carefully, tasting each bite for additional substances.  I couldn't taste any, but that doesn't really mean much anymore.

The red alien glanced up when I neatly put my knife and fork across my plate. "So, you are finished? Shall we drink tea?"

I am not sure how, but he produced a teapot and tea cups. Nice fancy ones, and poured us tea.  I don't know what blend the tea was either.  It tasted like Earth tea, but I'm not a tea expert.  Why did I drink it? Oh right, because he was drinking from the same pot.

"So, so," he said, as I sipped my tea, now clean, and clothed, and fed. "You are Wee-ill-son.”

I winced as he tried to pronounce my name. Of course it's my file he's reading in front of me. I lean forward. "Wilson, my family name."

He blinked yellow eyes. "Family name, personal name…. Lu-ka.”

I nod. “Yes, Luka.”

“Lu-ka Wah-ill-son.”

Eh. Close enough. “Yes.”  But this is getting old, fast.

He flicked a page.  I finished my tea, and set the cup down on the table.  I knew I looked young, but did not even aliens take me seriously? _I will hit him, I will hit him with my shoe. It may be made of cloth, but it will hurt. Probably._ Now, now, we’ve been fairly agreeable so far, let’s not ruin it.  

“You have an impressive resume of accomplishments, Mizz Wah-ill-son” the red alien said. “According to Terran government.”

“I am an important member of my community,” I replied.  It really depends on how one defines community and which community you asked.  “I really do not appreciate being removed from it.”

He made a sound, neither agreeing or disagreeing.  A light flashed on the table.  He didn't seem to see it, but he reached out to touch it.  

“It’s time for your medical appointment now.”

 


	2. Appointments

Oh no. No.  I leaped from the desk and -

didn’t go anywhere.

My foot dragged behind me and I fell flat on my face.  I looked at my feet, my right was gripped in a red… tail… I looked back up at the red alien.

“It’s time for your medical appointment now,” he repeated.

“No.”

He shook his head.  He stood up, and came around the desk.  I attempted to kick at the tail holding my foot, but he didn’t seem to feel it.  Why don’t they feel it? Instead, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me up.  

It was when he was able to hold together my wrists in one hand, that I realized that while he might be as tall as a regular sized human, his species has longer arms and larger hands.  Not to mention the tail.  I couldn’t see much other difference, since he was wearing a robe, and I was too distracted with him dragging me to another door.  I really did not want to go through that door.  

“Come, come, just an appointment,” he said over his shoulder.  

“NO!” I leaned backwards, trying to dig my heels in.  Unfortunately, the soles of my shoes had absolutely no grip and I just ended up stumbling through the dreaded doorway.

I winced as light flared all around me, stabbing my eyes.  

The red alien pulled me forward, so I cautiously shuffled the few steps he wanted me to take.  Then he let go of my wrists and appeared to disappear as other aliens showed up, very obviously the medical professionals.

I couldn’t see them very clearly, there was too much light and the room was that weird clean white colour again.  The only time I could really focus my eyes was when one of them put some device over my eyes, blissfully blocking out the light.  A flash of blue and it was removed too quickly.  

But it was very clear that this was an examination.  They looked and checked everything.  When one of them got too close, and I bared my teeth at them, another grabbed my chin to do a scan.  I think one of them took a clipping of my hair.  I know they took a sample of my blood; it was the only invasive thing they did.  Well, other than poking something up near my ears. The rest they managed with little scanning devices, just getting into my personal space and touching me.  

Thankfully, no bad touches.  Though I watched warily as one of them scanned my lower abdomen, and then chattered excitedly to the others.  I thought that the scars to my chest would have cause a stir as well, but apparently not as much.

It didn’t take them long to do their examination, even with me baring my teeth and growling at them. I like to think that I rattled at least a few of the newbies.  I’m a human, after all. There’s STORIES about us.

Finally, one of them took my wrist, again, and led me away.  Yeah, the whole grabbing wrist thing was getting old for me too, but I suppose it was better than restraints.  I’m totally okay with no restraints this early in the game.  

I was led out of the room, but this time, the door didn’t lead into another room but into a hall.  I inwardly cheered.  Hallways mean lots of doors and less of a trap, possibly a way to escape.  And then as we walked and the light spots disappeared from my eyes, that what doors were labeled, weren’t labeled in any Terran language. All in alien.  

And then there was a door open, and I was being led to it.  But then something cold and metal snapped around my wrist as I stepped through the door.  I turned around and the door slammed closed.  

I stared at the door, and it might have been jail cell bars.  I looked around at the room, my room now, my cell.  A bed, a shelf, a nightstand, a chair.  I didn’t want to think, or look anymore. I sat on the bed and sort of stared at the blank wall. I could feel the metal against my skin, slowly warming up with my body heat.

Sighing, I gave in, and looked down at it.  A thin band of metal, smooth, almost medicinal, encircled my left wrist.  Examining it, I couldn’t find a seam, it had merged so perfectly.  Engraved in it was a code, which when scan, I knew would read “Luka Wilson, Starship Subject 392.”

In sudden rage, I picked up the chair and threw it at the door. It didn’t even break with a most satisfying crash.  I snarled at it, but resisted the urge to throw it again.  I would NOT crying, and I would if I physically drained myself.  

I chewed the inside of my lip as I picked up the chair and arranged it at the foot of my bed. I ran my hands along its sides, trying to determine what materials it was made from.  It was firm, like plastic, but springy, like foam, to the touch.  As it demonstrated against the door, the chair did not break easily, but picking when I picked it up, it felt light.  

Putting the chair aside for later, I roamed the rest of my small room, touching, inspecting everything, the empty shelf, the little cubby in the nightstand, the space under the bed.  I even flattened myself against the walls, trying to hear any sounds.  I traced patterns on the wall, finally admitting to myself that I was bored already.  

I hated myself for what I was doing, but I knew it was necessary to fight off the homesickness.  I was familiarizing myself with the room, making it mine in my head.  If I had any of my stuff, I’d scatter the things in my pockets on the shelf and drape my jacket over the chair.  But I have nothing now except my mind.  

I peeked into the nightstand drawer.  I had this little child’s hope that maybe they had gone through my stuff and picked out some of the odds and ends, harmless stuff, really, that I had been carrying, good luck charms mostly, and let me have them back.  Of course, I was a fool of a child; they wouldn’t let me have them back right away.  I’d have to earn them back, and the stuff has to be scanned and decontaminated first.  That is, if I ever have a chance of getting anything back….

The bed was nicely made, all the sheets and blankets tucked in.  I frowned at it.  I’ve never completely made my bed in my life.  What was the point? You just crawl back in and sleep in it the next night.  I pulled back the sheets - such nice soft sheets - and sat cross-legged on the bed, not bothering to take off my shoes.  It’s so clean in here, I could eat off the floor.  

I bet there’s micro-cleaners all around, making sure the place is so spic'n'span all the time.  Probably in here too, along with…. micro-monitors… keeping an eye on me…

I snort to myself, and wave my left wrist, jangling the metal band.  My prison bracelet? My ID tag?  Either way, I was here, a specimen, a subject; of course they were watching me.  They were watching the three hundred and ninety-one other subjects too, or however more there was of us.  

Well, I just made myself depressed. Good going me.

And… where’s the washroom?

I eyed the blank walls.  I hadn’t noticed any control panel to another room, or to access any toilet.  I checked the nightstand.  Nothing.  

And just as I feared, I felt pressure start to build in my lower abdomen.

“Curses,” I hissed as I instinctively pressed my knees together.  Then there was a beep and from an empty corner, a sort of toilet unfolded from the wall.  I stared.  I could have sworn there were no seams in the wall.  But nature called….

When I had flushed, a sort of bar extended, with a pictograph of hands being held underneath.  Slowly, I stretched out my hands.  A blue light snapped on, and I released a held breath.  I turned my hands over so that my palms could be cleaned in the disinfecting light.  Less mess than a sink.  

As I turned away, the whole thing folded back into the wall, nice and neat, without a trace. I returned to sitting on the bed.  There’s really not a lot to do.

Still determined to make the room mine, I untucked the bed, and started arranging the blankets around me in a nest.  The bed was already in a corner, which was good.  I hated sleeping without my back to a wall. But there was no way I was sleeping completely relaxed, not my first night here.  I might not be able to keep it up for long, but I would maintain what I could of my training.

Sitting with my back supported by the corner and a pillow, the blankets wrapped around me in a nest, I let myself drift into a light sleep.  

I don't know how long I stayed like that.  There's not exactly any way to tell time in the room.  The ceiling lets out a soft glowing light, but there's no time pieces. I'd rouse slightly, to shift my position, unconsciously easing strains, but it wasn't until the door slid open that I immediately awoke, completely aware.  

Two aliens stepped inside, filling the space.  They weren't the tall ones, but broadly built, a rusty sort of colour that darkened at their joints.  Three eyes and long, serpentine noses.

"What do you want?" I snapped.

"Come, come," they murmured, gesturing.  I frowned.  My nest of blankets is soft and comfy, and they want me to leave it?

They shuffled forward, as if not to startle me, with hands - way too many fingers to be decent, by the way - outstretched.  Right, they weren't going to give me a choice. I might as well find out what they want the easy way.  "Wait a moment," I say, and start pulling myself from the blankets, as if I had gotten myself tangled in them.  The two stayed put and waited, but as soon as I stepped free from the blankets and sheets, they grabbed my wrists and pulled me with them.  

Another alien like them was waiting in the hall, and led the way past so many identical doors. I had been told that I was headed to a research facility, and this place looks so bland and lifeless. I glanced at the aliens holding my wrists and wondered whether they were researchers doubling as restraints, tripling as guards. I'd have so many aliens holding my wrists, and it probably wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

I didn't bother trying to learn the route we took; it all seemed like one big line of corridor, and alien text is gibberish to me. But we didn't walk very far before turning towards a door. There was a panel on the side, and the leading alien poked at a button.  A pause, a chime sounded, and then the door opened.  I was led in.  

It was an office.  An alien office, but an office.  A large room, weird artwork on the walls, visitor chairs - one that looked like a modern art sculpture, or maybe it was just a sculpture - a large desk, and behind that desk -

"You!" I snarled, instantly enraged, baring my teeth. I made to leap forward, and the ones holding my wrists immediately clamped down, swung themselves around to grab me and hold me still.  I froze.

The alien behind the desk hadn't moved at all, just calmly stood by as this happened. She - I know it's a she, their race is similar enough to humans - pushed a pair of handcuffs onto the desk and folded her green hands in front of her.  "We can do this the easy way, Miss Wilson, or the hard way."

I regarded the handcuffs.  Yeah, those would be a lot more uncomfortable, but then, I wasn’t very keen on this much physical contact with aliens either.  I huffed and looked away.  I’m still a prideful bitch. “Don’t call me Wilson.”

She must have gestured to the guards, because they loosened their grip and returned to only holding my wrists.  

“Alright then, Miss Luka, how’s it going to be?”

There really is nothing to be gained by getting myself into trouble right now, even if those are very nice alien-tech handcuffs.  I sigh, toss my head slightly to get my bangs out of my eyes, and make a palms up gesture.  She nods, and my guards lead me to one of the chairs, let me sit down, and release my wrists.  She sits down as well.

“I still hate you, Shivali,” I declare, and spat on her desk.  

No one moves for a few seconds.

The Shivali shrugs.  “I don’t really expect you not to, but I think that’s not today’s discussion.  What I want to talk to you about is what has just happened to you, why you’re here.”

Something clicked into place for me.  “You’re my counsellor.”

“Yes, I’m Clytia, your Emotional Support.  I’d offer my hand to shake, but I suspect you wouldn’t take it,” she even chuckled.  “Would you like to tell me how you feel about today?”

“No.” I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair.  No way am I just going to open up my feelings to a damn Shivali.  

“How about how you came here?”

That could be interpreted many different ways, from what did I do to get here, to how was the trip? Me, I’m never one to miss out a chance to make a statement, so I straighten my shoulders, find my center, and in a clear voice, recite, “My name is Luka Wilson, and I do not regret any of my actions that have led me to be betrayed by my own species. I refuse to recant.”

The Shivali named Clytia barely blinks. “Alright then, is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

I lean back in my chair and shake my head.

She sighed. “Okay, then listen. I understand you’re upset, and you have every reason.  You’ve been exiled, and sent here, where no one comes back.  But I need you to work with me right now,  I can’t let you out of this room until I have a psychological report, so I need you to talk to me.”

I stared at her. “I don’t believe you.”

“Doesn’t have to be too personal, just what you’re thinking right now.”

I looked away, staring at a blank spot of the wall near one of the artwork.  “I want to go home.”

“Okay.”

I glanced at her without turning my head. “I don’t trust you, any of you, but especially you.”

“Got that.”

I turn to the guards standing by the door.  “STOP TOUCHING ME!”

“Touching a no, got it.” I looked back to see the Shivali taking notes on a thin tablet device. She reached and touched something on her desk, and a bowl of fruit slid up from somewhere.  “If you’d like, Miss Luka, please help yourself to some fruit.”

I sighed, “and don’t call me Miss.”  

“Hm?” She looked up at me.

“Miss, don’t call me Miss.” I repeated.  “No last name, no honorifics.”  I’m not responsible if aliens can’t pick up on the fact that Luka is a boy’s name.  I mean, we’ve only been interacting with them as a species for, oh, about half a century, and it’s not like they don’t have my life history in front of them.  Well, I’m assuming about the life history; I’m pretty sure they have my medical history though.

The Shivali blinked.  “So just Luka, then.”

“Yes.” I leaned over the bowl of fruit, inspecting the selection.  I picked up what looked like an apple and sniffed it.  Smelled like one too, so I took a bite.  I didn’t trust the citrus fruits; don’t get it often enough to know what tastes right, so I’ll stick to what I know.  

The Shivali must have finished her report, because she picked herself an orange and started peeling.  She didn’t say anything though, seemingly gazing at her artwork. I kept her in the corner of my eye as I munched on my apple and looked in the other direction.  Putting the seeds aside, I even ate the core.  Waste not, want not.

I look at the seeds in my hand.  If I were at home, I would have tried to find a place to plant them, for some far off person in the future to eat, or else given them to the birds.  But now, here in space, they are just a waste.

“Put them here, they’ll go into the compost.” A small bowl on the desk.  She had already put her orange peels in it.  I dropped the apple seeds in it, and the bowl disappeared.  I really wanted to know how this folding-space tech worked.  But I didn’t feel like asking the Shivali.

She glanced at her tablet. “And your room is ready.  Shall we go?” She stood and looked at me, expectantly.  

So that boring empty room isn’t my room.  Awesome sauce. I stand as well, and let her usher me to the door, where she touches a panel and the door opens.  She and one of the guards takes the lead, with the other two behind with me.  I’m just glad they don’t take my wrists again.

It was a short walk down the hall before we turned into a small room, just big enough for all of us. A room that had buttons along the side with the door. Belatedly, I realized we’d just stepped into an elevator. It was a very smooth elevator since I didn’t feel it moving at all. The doors just closed behind us, and then a minute or two, opened again.  

The halls here were much different, not so plain and bleak.  The walls were a light yellow, a little brighter than pastel, and the floor patterned with shades of green.  I couldn’t quite see the details of the doors, with the two guards on either side of me, but they were a light blue.  

“There are some common rooms on this floor, which you’ll be able to access at different times of the day, and some rooms that you’ll be needing someone to accompany you.  But let’s get you settled in your room, eh Luka?” The Shivali said over her shoulder. She seemed to want a response, so I just shrugged. It satisfied her, and soon we came to our destination.

Like the others, this door was on the one side of the hall and light blue.  Now I saw what I couldn’t see on the other doors, a little sign next to the doors, with some text I couldn’t understand, and then in what I could, “Luka, 392 HC.”

“And here you go,” the Shivali smiled as she pressed something on a panel next to the door, which slid open. “We’ll let you be for now, so just rest up.”

I glanced at her, and the guards, all standing around me so there was only one way to go.  Rolling my eyes and wishing I had pockets to shove my hands into, I walked past them and into my room. The door slid closed behind me, and I fancied I could hear the lock click.

So, left alone, in what was definitely my room.  It was bigger than the last room, the walls a soft blue.  On one wall was a sort of corkboard, with a welcome note attached to it.  Opposite the bed and nightstand in the corner was a large screen, currently showing a graphic of a field of flowers.  Against that wall, under the corkboard, was a small dresser.  Honestly? I’m going to get more clothes? I had to see this.  I opened the dresser drawers, and stared.  

The aliens had not only watched me get dressed, they had noted what I had debated on putting on initially, what I finally put on, and my sizes.  In one drawer, enough pairs of underwear for about two weeks.  Another drawer, an assortment of shirts in blue. Yeah, apparently they got the hint that I like blue.  In the last drawer, pants, more or less the same as what I was wearing, just in various dark colours, but no black.  I was a little sad about that, but possibly they have a thing about black.  I looked at my shoes; I guess I only get one pair at a time. Given my impulses to hit them, I really can’t blame them.

I closed the drawers and poked around the rest of my room.  The shelves were on the wall next to the door this time, shorter but more of them.  I rubbed my hands on them, feeling their texture.  It felt like they hand been made to feel like wood.  Coloured to look like wood too, but it was too clean, too smooth, too flat.  I glanced at the bed, slightly annoyed that my nest from before was for nothing.  Something on the wall next to the head of the bed caught my eye.  I slowly got closer to examine it.  

A control panel, above the nightstand.  I reached up to it, and hesitated. What would this do? But it beeped at the motion of my hand, and a door slide open.  I peeked inside.  

On the other side was a small washroom.  It was as wide as my room, but only had a toilet and one of those blue-light hand cleaners. Like the first room when I arrived, the washroom was covered in a textured tile. I frowned at the large, empty area left over. I checked the other side of the door for a switch before entering to poke around the remaining empty space, but couldn’t find anything.   

Disappointed, I waved my hand in front of the door switch and returned to the bedroom.  I sat on the bed and kicked off my shoes, stretching my toes.  Then I got up and poked at the screen.  No reaction.  Now frustrated, I returned to the bed, and started unmaking the bed, once again building my nest.  As I did, I noticed the screen flicker.  I turned to it.  

Overtop of the field of flowers was a message box reading “Now entering Night-Phase, Please prepare for bed. Lights out in 30 minutes.”

“Bedtime, okay, got it,” I muttered.  The screen seemed to register my voice, as a check mark box appeared, and the message box disappeared. I snorted and returned to arranging my nest. As I crawled into bed, the lights began to dim, and it was dark as I closed my eyes and fell asleep.


	3. Orientation

“Luka, it’s time to get up.  Luka, it’s time to get up.” Something cheery was singing in my ear.  I grabbed my pillow and threw it in the direction of the singing.  

“Go ‘way,” I muttered into my blankets.

“Unfortunately, I cannot do that Luka,” the cheery voice replied. “Please get out of bed so I may brief you on today’s schedule.”

Schedule?  My eyes snapped open, and I sat up, blankets falling away.  Memories flooding back, I looked down at my blankets.  Somehow in the night, I had fallen out of my sitting position and curled up on my side.  Sloppy, sloppy training.  I looked up to try and locate the voice.  

The screen had changed.  It now showed a yellow smiling face taking up the entire screen.  I scowled at it.  “I have a schedule?”

“Indeed,” the face gave me a beaming smile.  “Today you’ll meet with your peer guide, who will take you through your orientation tour.”

“Awesome,” I yawned. I rolled out of bed and stretched. “You’ll let me know when they’re here?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Great,” waving my hand, I entered the bathroom to relieve myself.  I came out a little more awake and more aware that I was getting hungry.  I plucked at the front of my shirt.  I had been manhandled, and slept in it twice.  Normally, wearing the same clothes for several days didn’t bother me, especially out in the country where it didn’t really matter. But here, they might have rules about it.  

Right.  Rules. I sniffed under my arms, and decided that unless my guide made it very clear that I was expected to wash and change my clothes daily, I didn’t mind wearing these another day.  I did, however, change my underwear, leaving the dirty ones to the side next to the dresser, just out of sight.  I am a slob, but I am not a disgusting slob.

“Your guide has arrived,” the screen announced.  Just in time too.  

“Lovely,” I stepped towards the door, which promptly opened.

A tall black teen with bushy hair stood in the doorway, wearing a light pink tunic-like top, dark purple pants, and black shoes. She smiled, “Hi, I’m Nicole Brown, your orientation guide.” She held out her hand.

I took it and shook it.  Finally, other humans! “Luka Wilson, newly arrived.”

“Nice to meet you, now want to get breakfast? Kitchen’s just opening up. We can talk a bit as we eat, and I can show you around a bit after.” She stuck a thumb over her shoulder, her metal band jangling against other bangles on her wrist. Unlike mine, hers was coloured green.

“Sounds good.” I pretended not to notice, but made a mental note to ask her about it later. I left my room, and watched as the door closed.

“Oh, if you want to enter your room, or any common area you have access, you just wave your ID bracelet over the control panel,” she demonstrated. A little red light flashed on the panel. “See, it’s telling me this isn’t my room, so I’m not allowed in, and since you’re on inside, it won’t announce me.”

“Ah, got it.” That explains the Shivali waving something over the panel last night; it must have been her pass to open the door.  But could all staff enter our rooms? We started heading down the hall. “So what about the staff?”

“Oh, them?” Nicole seemed flustered at the question. “Well, from what I’ve seen, they can only go into someone’s room if they have permission for an appointment and such.  Usually they find us in the common areas though; it’s more comfortable there.”  She pointed at the bare wall.  “This floor is basically one big loop, so it’s hard to get lost, and right about here… is the kitchen!”

A pair of double doors lead us into a cross between a school cafeteria and a dining room.  On one side of the room was a cafeteria line, with large trays at one end, and a selection of drinks on the other end.  It only lacked a cash register.  In place of school tables and benches were large and small tables covered in tablecloths and cloth napkins. A man dressed in dark green sat near one corner with a slim alien dressed in grey.  I glanced at them in the corner of my eye as I followed Nicole through the cafeteria line.

I carefully examined the offered dishes before making my selections and receiving my food from the alien servers.  It didn't escape my notice that all the food was cut up for us already, eliminating our need for knives.  Oh well, I can be resourceful.

"You're very cautious," Nicole remarked, as I sniffed the jugs of juice and milk left out on a table at the end of the line.

"I lived in the country," I replied, pouring myself a large cup of milk.  The cups were thin and light, very low mass.  

"Ah, a survivalist then."

"... You could say that," I said, eyeing the alien with the man.  “So, where to sit?”

“Hm, let’s sit there!” Nicole led me to one side of the room, allowing me to put my back to the wall.  Not that made much difference here, where there could possibly be hidden doors, but the doors leading out to the hall were a bright green.  On the other side of the room was a series of smaller doors that had the genderless symbol for washroom on them.

I poked at the food, hesitant to take the first bite, and then watched Nicole begin to eat.  Seeing her eating pretty much the same thing so casually convinced me to at least eat something.  There didn’t seem to be anything unusual about the food, so I continued to eat.  A few more people arrived for breakfast.  Nicole waved at them, and they waved back but seeing me they didn't join us. I watched them, noticing the colour of their ID bands.  Most of theirs were green or yellow, and none of them were grey metal like mine.

“Hey Nicole, what’s with the colour of these bracelets,” I held up my wrist, my grey band plain against my skin.

“Oh, it shows your care level,” Nicole held up her own. “There’s four levels, Green, Yellow, Orange, and Red.” She nodded at my bracelet. “You’ve just arrived, so you haven’t been assigned a level, cause they’re still assessing you.”

“And you’re level Green? What does that mean?” I casually took another bite.

“Well, I’ve been here long enough to get off Yellow, and got used to here well enough that I pretty much don’t need staff hovering over me and I have access to all the common areas.” She looked so cheery about it.  I’m betting that whatever she got arrested for, it wasn’t that huge of a thing, but Earth Gov needed to fulfil the treaty, so she got shipped here.  Unlike me, who they really wanted off-planet.  

“And Yellow?”

“Eh, everyone starts on Yellow, so I wouldn’t worry about being on it, some people just take longer to adjust that others,” Nicole munched on her cereal. “Your access to certain areas is restricted, like, if you want to go into common areas you have to swipe your ID and wait for staff to accompany you in the room, you get a curfew at night, and… no, that’s it, I think.”

“So what would he be?” I nodded my head at the man with the alien companion. Nicole glanced at him.

“Eric?  He’s an Orange, basically has to have a staff member with him at all times.  Behaviour and/or medical issues.” She shrugged.  “And before you ask, Reds are intensive care; you won’t see them down here with us.  They live in an isolated floor.”

“Huh.” It sounded like I definitely didn’t want to get placed on Red or Orange, but being stuck on any of these level systems was going to wear at my nerves before too long.  How long can I play nice? I scraped up the rest of my food and drank the last of my milk. “So where do we put our dishes?” I smiled.

Behind the drinks was a cart to put our trays and dirty dishes, and then Nicole led me out of the dining room.  Nicole chattered about the places we were going to see, an exercise room, an arts room, the common lounge, a library.  I half-listened to all the marvelous things available to fill our time, and kept an eye on all the doors in the hall.  

She was right, the hall did curve slightly, making a large loop.  We peeked into the arts room, full of musical instruments, art and craft supplies.  I wasn’t allowed in without staff.  But Nicole opened the door for me to see.  Same for the exercise room.  It’s okay, I didn’t really want to go inside those rooms right now.  The exercise room was interesting though, with the floor all thick and plush like mats.  There was a long line of treadmills, and another of exercise bikes, but otherwise it looked like most of the space was used for stretching kind of exercises.  

“What, no pool?  I’m going to miss swimming,” I remarked.  I had crouched down to get a better look at the floor.  I looked up at Nicole.

“Umm, no, sorry,” she did look apologetic, poor kid.

“It’s okay, what’s next?” I got up, and dusted off my pants, mostly out of habit.  

“The lounge!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me along.  “Come on!”  I fought down a stab of panic and the impulse to kick her, allowing myself to be towed towards another door.  

Another pale yellow room, very large, was set up to be several living rooms in one big room.  Scattered around were couches and armchairs in matching colours and patterns arranged together with coffee tables and side tables.  A large screen took up an entire wall, another wall with a series of washrooms like in the dining room.

“Here! The lounge is where most of us hang out, though some people like to take board games into the dining room.” Nicole pointed to a door at one end. “That goes to the library, where you can take out books if you have permission.  Otherwise you have to read them there, or else take out a digital copy on the system.”

“Huh,” I considered the library. “I suppose some people just like the feel of books still.”

“Yeah, digital is nice, and there’s more selection, but something about the weight of a book,” Nicole nodded. “The coffee tables have those little pop-up screens in them, for watching things.  Library also has movies.”

“Hn,” I glanced at the nearest coffee table as we strolled into the lounge. “We get any news from Terra?” I need to watch my words, not give myself away too soon.  

“Not a lot, and what we do get tends to be a little late.”

It’s on purpose, knowing their communications technology, even the outdated stuff they traded with us would be good enough for live newscasting.  

“Ah, there’s one of my friends, Eddy.” My hand still in hers, Nicole led me to a group of couches where a man around mid-thirty or forty years old was sitting.  He was dressed solemnly in olive green and navy blue, and had long, smooth black hair.  I see that black shoes are common.  I’m really not surprised; if you’re going to have only one pair of shoes, black goes with everything.  I’ve yet to see a human being break this pattern, but I suppose that there are exceptions to the practicality of black shoes.

“Morning Eddy, this is Luka,” Nicole said. “Luka, Eddy.”  

She had finally let go of my hand, so I waved. “Hello.”

He looked up at me.  I saw that he had a screen up, reading an article off it.  His hands rested on his legs, and his Yellow bracelet sharp against his blue pants. “It’s nice to meet you, Luka.”

“Did you have a good breakfast, Eddy?” Nicole flopped herself onto the other couch in a boneless heap.  I more warily took an armchair.

“It was a good breakfast, as usual,” Eddy flicked at the screen.  “Was no coffee though.” He glanced at me and my grey band.

“What’cha reading?” I asked.  It looked like a news article.  It would be nice to see how recent it was.  I have no idea how long of a trip I had taken to get here, nor exactly how long I’d been kicking my heels in an Earth Gov cell.

“News,” Eddy turned the screen around so I could see. “About a month ago, some rioters turned out to be terrorists and tried to attack the government R&D center, but they were arrested.” I nodded, I am very familiar with this news story.  He continued, “Now most of them have been sentenced to hard labour, but a few key members are missing.  Some members of the public are asking questions.”

Huh, that’s new.  I quickly scanned the article.  I was familiar with the rights groups mentioned, but none of them had been interested in missing inmates before… oh.

“There any pictures to go with these articles?” I asked.

“Only if you get them from inside the library, for the sake of the Oranges,” Nicole offered.  Of course. But I had a hunch.  I glanced at Eddy’s Yellow band.  I had a hunch, especially given that one particular legal rights group had gotten involved, which made the entire thing so much hilarious.  I really wished I could be there when whoever is in charge realizes that they made a mistake.  Sadly, I am not, I am stuck in this bastardization of a prison, an alien research experiment, and a mental hospital.

Nicole and Eddy started to chat, and I fell silent.  It was very clear that we - subjects? patients? inmates? - were confined to this floor, where there was just the rooms that Nicole had showed me.  For a certain amount of people, it is enough leisure activities to be content, in fact, with the free room and board, it might even be a major improvement from their previous lifestyle.  They just had to cooperate with the aliens, and oh yes, could never go back to Earth again.

I sighed to myself.  It was inevitable. I wasn’t going to last.  But I could feel the twitch coming on, the impulse to get up and _MOVE_ , to do something, either rip things down or build something.  Trying to keep myself composed, because yes, thank you Nicole for the warning earlier, like I didn’t know, they are so watching me closely, my knee starts bouncing up and down.  God, I wanted to pace, or throw something, but neither of those are really good ideas.

Out of the blue, I just blurt out, “So, does anyone know what’s it like on level Red?” Oh yes, real smart of me.

Nicole and Eddy share a look.

“No one who’s gone up to Red has ever come down,” Eddy said slowly.

“Technically, it’s possible for them to work themselves down though, if it’s behavioural,” Nicole smiled hopefully.

Eddy snorted. “In theory. But that’s where they don’t just have one-on-one support, they have you in lockdown.” I raised an eyebrow.  “I did a stint on Orange, and my staff told me a bit about Red.  It’s probably true, cause I’ve yet to see them lie to us directly.”

“Ah, good to know.” I looked around, taking in the room again.  “I’m going to go back to my room, is that okay Nicole?”

She hesitated.  “I suppose, I mean, I gave you the tour and told you everything important I think.  But don’t you want to stay and meet more of our friends?”

I gave her a slight smile. “Eh, there’ll be plenty of time later for that, won’t there?”

She laughed, “Right, then go ahead! I’ll save you a seat at lunch! Your computer will let you know when!”

“Thanks, see you then!” I nodded to Eddy.  He gave me a two finger salute, and I strolled out of the lounge.  Mentally mapping how far around the loop Nicole and I had already walked, I simply turned to walk in the direction that would take me the shortest distance to my room.

Once in my room, I rested my back and head against the wall and sighed with relief.  Then I surveyed my room again with a sinking heart, realizing for the first time how small a cage I really found myself in.  The only thing I could really control was when it was going to happen, a small measure of how fast things spun out of control and I lost even the resemblance of this freedom.

In the space that I had, I started pacing.  Sensing my movement and probably alerted to my apparent distress by whoever is watching, the screen blinked onto the smiling face.  

“Luka, are you alright? Do you require assistance?”

“No thank you, I am alright,” I replied a little absently, “I’m thinking.”

“I understand,” the screen replied. “If you require anything, just let me know.”

I barely acknowledged as I paced and planned.


	4. Scars

The screen blinked on.  “It is noon, Luka, and Nicole Brown has a message for you that she will be waiting for you in the dining room.”

I looked up.  By then I had ceased my pacing and having calmed down, requested the computer for entertainment I could read or watch in my room.  It had directed me to the nightstand drawer, where a thin, very light tablet was stored.  On it, I could read digital copies of books, or call up movies and shows to watch on it or the larger screen.  As it was, I was amusing myself with an old cartoon.  

“Thank you, I’ll be there shortly.” Pausing the cartoon, I set the tablet aside.  Like all items that came into contact with us humans here, it was made to have very light mass, so once again, would be fairly useless as a weapon.

"Also, you have an appointment after lunch."

I paused. "After lunch? Explain."

"Your doctors wish to talk to you. They have some questions regarding the scans they took yesterday."  Ah. That makes sense.

"Thank you for the information."

This was going to be interesting.  I have a feeling I know what they meant by questions. But let them make the first move; for now, lunch!  The walk to the dining room was uneventful, and I found Nicole when I arrived.  True to her word, she had a table, and there was plenty of seats available for me.  Given that currently, there was only her and Eddy, definitely plenty of room. I grabbed a tray of food - way too similar to cafeterias, this was becoming familiar quick - and headed over.

“So when does the coffee come back?” I asked Eddy as I sat down.

“By tomorrow, usually.”

“Good, don’t think I can really stand another morning without my coffee,” I looked down at my tray.  A sandwich, some salad greens, something that resembled pudding, and juice. I poked the pudding with my spoon, and it jiggled a little.  “... Were they trying for jello-pudding?”

“It’s not actually that bad,” Nicole took a bite of her own.  She had a very large bowl.  “Just don’t get any of the green.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Pistachio,” Eddy and Nicolo said together, with the same amount of distaste.  

“And it really tastes awful,” someone said behind me.  I spun in my seat.  The first thing I saw was a shocking combination of bright orange and blue; orange pants and a blue tank top, baring shoulders and cream skin heavily covered in freckles. A shake of the head tossed waves of brilliant auburn hair and I was drawn to laughing green eyes.  The combination was stunning.

“Wow,” I said a little breathlessly, “So fire, what you’re in for?” I didn’t even have the self-awareness to be embarrassed enough to slap a hand over my mouth.   Not exactly a conversation I wanted at this moment. Oh, they’d probably find out sooner or later, I’d just prefer later.

She flashed a smile at me - yes, I openly checked her out, no shame here - before responding. “Illegal prostitution.”

I snorted.  “I’m betting that’s not all.” I glanced at the others. They looked at me blankly. “Oh come on, the largest crime on Earth is theft, in various forms.  Looking like that, you,” I looked pointedly at the newcomer, “were turning more than one type of trick.”

Now she grinned, head high. “I’m also a klepto, hence the shadow.” She nodded to the slim alien dressed in grey next to her. I blinked, having just realized the alien was there. A quick peek confirmed an Orange band on her wrist.  

I shrugged. “Good to know.” Not like I had anything to be stolen any more.  I rose from my seat and extended my hand to shake. “Nice to meet you….?”

She took my hand and shook it. “Daria. Same to you.”

“Luka,” I grinned. I motioned for her to sit. The table was big enough, though I stare a little at the alien who sits down with her.  

Daria raised her eyebrow as she sat down. “So you go by…?”

I smirked. “She and her. No ‘Miss’ though.”

Nicole put down her spoon to look back and forth between Daria and me, her jaw dropping a little. “Oh.”

“You think they’ve figured it out?” Eddy piped up.

“Eh, maybe,” I stabbed at my greens with a dull fork before giving up and just using my fingers. “They have enough of my files to try calling me Miss; whether they know enough about human names to recognize gendered naming is another matter.” But I know that my medical files and what they find in their scans will make things exciting for them.  If nothing else, I make an impressive case study on my own.

Daria took a bite of her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “Probably not, which might be a good thing.” She swallowed more carefully. “But hey, it’s not like it matters much anymore, right?”

I glanced at her shadow, serenely eating a bowl of green pudding.  “No, not anymore.” Except it does.  I resist the urge to rub at the scars on my stomach.

We sat there for a moment, eating silently. I finished my sandwich.

“So,” I said finally, “what do you like to do for fun?”

Nicole perked up. “Oh that’s right! You haven’t actually been inside the arts room yet!”

“Oh? I did look inside,” I started on my pudding.  They were right, it wasn’t bad, just weird. “It did look well-stocked.”

“You can make a lot of things in there,” Eddy commented. “I made myself some neat nicknacks and little doodads in there.”

“They let you keep them?”

He shrugged.  “Some of them.”

I tilted my head. “Definitely will have to check it out then.” Oh, if I can find the right things…

A shadow fell over the table and as everyone else hushed, I looked up. Three aliens, two of the rusty reds, and that Shivali from before, stood there.  The Shivali was smiling at me.

“Hello Luka,” she said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for your appointment.”

I looked her straight in the eye as I slowly reached for my juice and drank the rest of it, setting the now empty cup down on the tray.  I wiped my mouth on my sleeve. “Alright, then, let’s go.”

“I’ll take your tray back,” Nicole said quietly.

“Thank you Nicole,” the Shivali said, smiling at her.

I sighed to myself as I stood up, my hands itching for pockets to shove them into, and followed the Shivali.  I could feel the silence of everyone around me as we left the dining room and walked into the elevator, the two rust aliens flanking me on either side.  Once again, I couldn’t feel the elevator move, we were just there on a new floor, and I was being escorted into a totally new room.  

It was a coloured a light pink; I think it was suppose to be one of those calming pink shades.  Not a huge room, I’d call it a living room if I were back home in the country.  I don’t know what any city people would call it.  There was a couch, where I was gestured to sit, and a bunch of different chairs, some more comfortable looking than others.  The Shivali took one of the more recognizable armchairs, and the two rusty aliens stood behind the couch a little ways.  There wasn’t much else in the room.  I didn’t like it.  

“I thought we could talk a little before the medical staff came in,” the Shivali said, her hands in her lap, palms up.  I looked at them blankly, and then shifted so I was sitting cross legged on the couch.

“What’s to talk about?” I crossed my arms and leaned back.

“Well, is there any questions you have? Any requests?  If possible, I can see whether I can get items to or from Terra.”  Oh, so tempting.  I want my clothes back, I want my things back, but hell no, I’m not sending anything to Earth that can be traced and compromise my comrades.  I narrowed my eyes.

“Why don’t you think about it and get back to me?” The Shivali said when I looked away.  “It’s going to take some time, I understand.”  I shot her a dark look.  

She cleared her throat.  “Alright then.  Shall I send in the medical team?” I shrugged.  There must have been some signal sent, because an unseen door behind her opened, and a small group of aliens in white suits came in, nearly all of them carrying tablets.  Some of them were Shivali, some were similar humanoids but because of the suits, I couldn’t quite make out their features.  Most of them took the remaining chairs, a couple stayed standing.

The first Shivali, Clytia, glanced to one of them, who leaned forward with a tablet.

“Luka, I’m Folami, I’m in charge of your medical team, and we have some questions about the initial scans we took when you arrived.”

I tilted my head to the side.  “Don’t you have my medical files from Terra? I’m sure they gave you all my documentation.”

“Yes, the Terran government did hand over quite a lot of documentation, however, some details are not very clear in the files. Actually,” he flipped through his notes on his tablet. “Some details appear to be missing from the record entirely. Yet Terra says this is all they have.”

“And you think I can fill in the blanks.”  Yep, this was going to be interesting.  What did Earth Gov decide to leave off my charts? I shrugged. “You can ask, I can’t promise I’ll know the answers.” Hell, it’s my health, might as well.

Folami nodded. “It says here that when you were younger, you had an operation, and, er, lists some of the outcomes, but it doesn’t say why it was needed.”

Ah yes, of course.  I slip my hands down to hug my stomach, my scars.  I don’t want to answer.  I chew on the inside of my lip, and my eyes dart towards all the aliens around me. I can’t trust them.  I can’t trust them!

The Shivali Clytia glances at the medical team and scoots herself forward.  “Luka, I know this is difficult to talk about, but if it’s something that we can help you with, we’d like to,” she says softly. “We don’t want to be your enemy.”

And yet….

“How much trouble can I get in here?” In the corner of my eye, I saw her eyes widen. Her hands made to reach for mine before I flinched away.

“Luka, the Terran government has no hold here. They’ve sent you here, and that’s it. Yes, we have their files, and they’ve sent their recommendations of where we’re to place you, but it’s your actions and your needs that determines what happens to you here.”

What do I have to lose? I clench my sides.  My pain is mine, not to be put up on display for research.  I’ve borne it for so long… I sharply looked up at her, into her eyes, and then scanned the medical team in front of me.  I bared my teeth and growled. “Get out of my head. My pain is mine!”

“Okay, it’s alright,” the Shivali Clytia slowly backed away, her palms in front of her. “You don’t want to talk about how that surgery happened.  It’s okay.”

“But we do need to fill in some of the blanks in your chart, so that we can provide the right medical care,” Folami added.  “For example, the damage done to your chest, it happened around the same time as your surgery, but by different instruments?”

I took a deep breath.  Yes, this I could answer. “The chest was done after the operation, on my request.” I wanted to smirk as Clytia winced. I know what my chest scars look like. While they’ve healed nice and flat, they are brutal and ugly, done by people whose main concern was keeping people alive, not how nicely the wounds looked when healed.  “And it really depends on what you define by ‘damage’; do you mean the scars or what I had removed?”

A couple of the doctors looked at each other.  Maybe some of them had speculated on this.  I don’t know.  Oh.  Oh, was I confirming some of the stories about the dreaded humans who do horrendous things to our own bodies and survive? Okay, now I do smirk.

“So yes, I had major parts of my mammary glands removed, in reaction to the previous surgery.” I looked Folami straight in the face. Much easier to do when I couldn’t really see his face in the suit.  “Is there anything else?”

He cleared his throat, or at least sounds like it. “One last thing, for now. Did you receive any follow-up care or treatment for your operation?”

Ah, now this is going to be a shame. “You mean, other than checking to see whether or not I’d die? No.” I could feel all the sharp intakes of air, all the horrified gasps behind their suit masks. Such civilized creatures. “I went back home and spent time resting there before requesting the alterations to my chest.”

“Okay, I think that’s enough for now,” the Shivali Clytia gave me a weak smile. “If you’ll just wait here for a moment, I need to talk to the medical team before taking you back.”

I rolled my eyes and shrugged. I really didn’t see the point of them pretending I have a choice in the matter. But off they went, to a corner away from me, where they started talking in low tones, and I think in some alien language that I obviously didn’t know. One of them began rapidly typing into a tablet, and then they all looked at their tablets, as if waiting for a reply.

Apparently, it came quickly, because they all glanced at me before turning away and chatting for a few more seconds. Then the Shivali Clytia broke away, and the doctors left.  She returned to me.

“Alright, shall we go back?”

Might as well.  But as I got up, a flash of unexpected colour caught my eye, and stared.

The band on my wrist had turned yellow.


	5. Routine

I was released outside my room, the aliens just letting me go and walking off.  The Shivali giving me another smile and saying that we’ll have ‘another talk’ sometime. What nosy, pushy aliens.  

 

The sign next to my door had changed; it now read “Luka, 392 HC-1”.  I look down at my now Yellow band around my wrist.  Maybe the aliens have their own code for the levels. However, I really can’t find it in me to care much.  All that matters is that my band has a colour and I know what that means.  

I go find the people that I know here. They’re not in the lounge, so I look for them in the arts room.  Waving my wrist in front of a sensor by the door, I wait for a staff worker to appear to escort me inside.  Another one of those slim grey aliens a little taller than me that don’t talk very much, but just kind of follows me as I stroll across the room to the table where I recognize the faces.  

They look up as I get closer, and I hold up my Yellow band, nodding to my temporary shadow.

“So, got your Yellow,” Daria said.  “Great, we’ll get our coffee back.”

“Thank goodness,” I replied. “I really don’t want to go another day without coffee. That falls under ‘cruel and unusual.’ So, what are we doing here?” I glanced at their table.  

“Bracelet making,” Nicole said, holding up her work, an elaborate piece of braided twine and beads.  

“Huh,” I blinked.  “Well, that does look pretty.” I reached for a chair to sit with them, but my alien shadow intervened.  It entwined its fingers with mine, and pulls me away.  

“Luka, this activity is not recommended for you at this time. Let us find another,” it said, its voice a strange double note harmony of high and low tones. I looked down at our fingers, my hand basically being held in its.  I tried to pull away, but its grip tightened.  

“Let us find another activity,” it said.  

“O-kay…” I said slowly. I turned back to the others. “So apparently I cannot stay and make bracelets.  I’ll see you at dinner?” As everyone agreed, I let the alien lead me away from the table.  “Alright, so what activities am I allowed to do right now?”

“Finger painting.”

I couldn’t help snickering as I was set up at an easel, an array of kiddie paints in front of me and a canvas just waiting.  Okay then, I’ll do some finger painting, then wander elsewhere to check out the library and maybe the exercise room.  I regarded my canvas, reached for the paints, dipping my fingers in the blue and green, and then touched the canvas and began to paint.

Finger painting, such a childish thing to do.  I hadn’t thought to take it too seriously.  I never was good at painting.  But I at least wanted to paint a tree.  A real tree, like the ones back at home, the ones most of these city folk had never seen. No, it made no sense, but already I was tired of hallways and doors and rooms.  I wanted trees and plants and _dirt_.

So I painted a tree.  And I did my best fingering painting it too.  I'm not trained in painting, I don't know how to place things in a picture.  I just painted roots at the bottom, reaching down into the earth, a trunk too wide to hug, and leaves reaching high, and blue sky all around.  I left my finger strokes show in the sky, for the wind, for clouds, for the breath of _freedom_. I mixed colours into the leaves for life.  It was messy and cluttered, and I ran out of room, and it didn't look right, but when I took my hands away, I left out a deep breath and it felt good.  

A nudge at my shoulder, and I looked to see my alien escort handing me a wet towel to clean my hands.  I have no clue what is on those towels, but it got all the paint off, nice and quick.  

"Would you like to paint more?" My escort asked.

"Actually, I'd like to leave now," I replied.  

The escort nodded.  "Good choice, it is approaching dinner time.  Your painting will dry here, and be waiting for you in your art locker." It pointed to a wall covered in large lockers.  

"Okay then, see you later," I strolled out of the arts room.  I wish I had some sort of timepiece, to mark when meal times were, so I didn't have to rely on the staff and computer to tell me when to go to the dining room.  I was making my way back towards my room when there was a three-tone chime.  Following a hunch, I turned on my heel and went to the dining room.

As I thought, the dining room had started to serve dinner, so I grabbed a tray and filled my plates. Because it was early still, I had my pick of tables, and I tried to find a place away from everyone else, to just sit in peace and eat.  Unfortunately, being the new person has disadvantages.  Like everyone wanting to come over and say hello.

I didn’t bother to remember everyone’s names.  I don’t make friends.  I just nodded, introduced myself, and tried to eat as best I could.  Eventually, they got the hint and walked away.  

I noticed a few eyeing me, a couple of double takes.  Some looked like the big mean type, always good for a scene, a brawl, or any type of fight. I sighed internally.  I really didn’t want to make too big of a scene quite yet.  Yeah, I might be headed to Red, but it doesn’t mean I’m eager to go.  I just finished my tray, put it away and left the dining room for my room.

 

Things since then have been uneventful for a while. People pretty much leave me alone. Oh, Nicole, Eddy, and Daria will invite me to their table to eat meals, or paint with me in the arts room if one of them feels like it, but otherwise I’m by myself. Eh, as far as prison goes, it could be worse, right?

I spend my days doing some exploring, and, I hate to say it, settling in.  The first things I noticed was returning to my room, and my bathroom suddenly having a shower stall, complete with a selection of shampoo, conditioners, and body washes, once again based off what I had considered when I first arrived. Oh, and big fluffy towels. Nice fluffy towels. Aliens apparently have good taste in towels.

The shower stall disappeared some time in the night.  I learned as I went that it reappeared depending on what activities I did during the day, or else appeared every other day.  However, as my daily routine settled into including a run in the exercise room every day, it became a permanent fixture in my bathroom.  

 

Have you ever slept in clothes before? Like, on purpose? Sure, I can do it when I’m out in the field, in proper gear and the right situation. But in the civies they give us here? And in the beds?  Yeah, it _feels_ like pajamas, but it’s not cut to be worn like them.  

Not. Comfortable.

So I did some poking around on my tablet.  Yes, you can order yourself clothes on it (alas, no sweaters with pockets).Yes, there is a sleepwear section.  Within a day, I got myself actual pajamas. Yay.

I figured I might as well, since I couldn’t sleep in my seated position. I tried it many nights, and no, I’d wake up in the bed, curled under the blankets.  I finally got curious and tried staying awake all night - training for in the field - but that didn’t work.  At some point, there was a smell, and bam, I was drifting off and then waking up in the morning.

So. Now I’m making my schedule.

 

I’ve checked out the exercise room.  There’s really not much to it.  Of course, I got an escort shadowing me while I’m there, but still, there’s not much there! Cardio machines, running and biking.  Mats for stretches, enough for a large group.  Staff said that there are groups that do “meditative stretches” in the open mat area.  How… restful…

Since sleep is enforced here, I get to bed early, and wake up early.  This lets me have the exercise room all to myself for a good hour before breakfast.  I gently stretch and go for a “run” under the watchful eyes of the staff.  Over the days, possible many weeks, I’ve been picking up my pace.  A good run does wonders.  

I really do wish for a pool though.  Full body exercise.

After my run, I do a cool off, then head to my room for a quick rinse down and change of clothes before breakfast.  I eat whatever I can safely identify as similar to human food, or what the others have cleared as close enough.  And coffee.  Sweet, life-giving coffee.

Where are they getting this stuff anyways?

After breakfast, I usually divide up my time either in the library, the arts room, or the lounge.  The arts room, to poke around with finger painting, since they still haven’t let me do anything else.  At least I have some of my paintings in my room, hanging on my walls.  It gives me something to look at other than the blank walls and the screen. Especially when the screen does the smiley face thing.  Creepy.

The lounge, well, for a place other than my room to sit and when I’m maybe in a mood to be sociable.  It’s a long shot though.  Like I said, most people avoid me.  Some people will let me join a game, but those are usually the Greens. Usually, not always. I seem to make people nervous. I'm not sure why exactly, I haven't actually done anything.  Well, maybe mutter the odd comment when they're leading me off to finger painting.

Most of the time, I’ll have a couch area to myself, and my “group” will join me.  Lots of time, I’ll continue to do what I’m doing, just with the rest of them there.  Maybe I’ll join in a game, if they really insist on it. Or watch whatever movie they’re playing.  But the couches are nicer than beds for reading on.

Yeah, I totally visited the library, spend a few days getting to know the stacks. The actual selection isn’t too impressive, sort of the classics of each genre, and I’m not allowed to take the actual books out. But the digital library… that is beautiful. Don’t get me wrong, some of it is censored, of course, but less so than on Earth.  I guess that’s a perk to already being criminals and locked up off-world, no way to get into more trouble reading inflammatory materials, huh.

News is delayed, as I was told.  Probably for regulating behaviour plans.

Heh, I guess that includes mine, now doesn’t it?

 

The doctors have been leaving me alone, same with the Shivali acting as my “emotional support.” I know their game; they’re giving me room to settle, giving me room to breath, so I don’t feel so boxed in and pressured the next time they come a’calling.  They want me to feel comfortable, to break down my walls.  

Unfortunately, I think a different sort of walls are coming down. 


	6. Waking

Last night, I went to bed fine.  But I woke up early.  Much early.  

It was so quiet, so still.  

I was too restless to sleep, so I crept to the exercise room.  Surprisingly, there was staff there at that time in the morning.  It looked rather sleepily. But it was awake.

I started with my usual stretches, but I didn’t move towards the treadmills.  Instead, I paced around the mats, continuing to stretch as I moved.  My escort must have sensed something was different, because it stood off the mats, out of my way.  Good.  

I would have preferred not having any sort of audience, I mean, as much as possible with cameras watching, but I’ll take what I can get.  Now, anyone watching is sure to get an eyeful. I stripped off my shirt, throwing it to the side, and keeping on my sports bra.  Not that I really needed it, but who knows what kind of nudity taboos aliens have?

No, the eyeful is my scars, the old ugly medical scars raised across my belly, the new jagged strikes ripped against my back.  The ones on my chest are hidden by my bra.  Mostly. If any of the researchers want a good look at my scars, this is the best they’re going to get.

Now as I pace, I include some new actions, punches, jabs and kicks.  Martial arts? Discipline? Heck no, just fighting.  Stances and poses are for people in exposition halls; I’m out in the forests and in the streets.  I’m pretty sure a bear doesn’t care what belt you have in karate or whatever you’re in.

Okay, I haven’t actually fought a bear, just to be clear. I’m not that badass.

There's no real form or structure to what I'm doing, I'm just pretending to fight some invisible enemies.  For practice, to get the pent up energy out, to keep my muscles good. Pick any and all of the above.  I went for it.

Eventually, I wore myself out. My kicks and punches began to get sloppy, and it got to the point where I wasn’t really sure what I was doing anymore.  So I stopped, and leaned forward, hands on my knees, to catch my breath. Sweat dripped off my brow onto the mat, and I just stared, gasping down great lungfuls of air.

Something gently touched my shoulder and I looked up.  My escort was there, holding out a towel and a clear water bottle. “Please,” it said.  I took the towel, and draped it around my neck. I had to straighten to take the water bottle.

“Thanks,” I said weakly.  It just nodded and stepped away.  Keeping it in my sight, I broke the seal on the bottle and took a drink.  Sweet, sweet water.  I felt like I could drink forever and not drink enough.  But I forced myself to stop at a gulp and lower the bottle. My heart pounds in my chest still, so I walk around a little, very slowly, stretching half-heartedly as I went. Every once in a while I took a drink from the bottle.

Eventually my heart rate was back to normal and the bottle was empty.  I wiped my brow with the towel, trying to get all the sweat before it completely dried on me.  So looking forward to that shower.  Then with a nod of thanks, I handed back the bottle and towel to the staff member.  It wordlessly accepted them.  

I really have to wonder, given how many of the identical, grey robed aliens staff this place, whether any of them have names.  I can't even tell whether they have genders.

"Hey," I get its attention again. "What are you called?"

It just looked at me, blinking.

I tried again. "Do you have a name?"

It tilted it's head to one side, and then finally responded. "We are Ydrae."

"Okay... Is that just you, or are all of you Ydrae?" I stumbled a bit over the odd name.

"We are Ydrae," it repeated unhelpfully, "Are you finished with your workout?"

Oops, maybe that was a hint. "Yes, thanks." I shuffled myself out.

It still felt early, too early for breakfast. I dripped with sweat, but didn't want to go back to my room. Pretty sure that as soon as I stepped through the door, the lights would dim and that funny scent would have me staggering to my bed.  No, I didn't feel like sleeping quite yet.  The restless energy was more...tamer, but still hummed under my skin.  Waiting, waiting, waiting.

Luckily, there is more than one way to burn off energy.  Which is good cause - shh! Don't let the aliens know! - I'm a little out of shape from my idleness.  

Wondering whether anyone on monitor-duty has ever seen Earth horror flicks, I took advantage of my shambling walk to shuffle zombie-like towards the library, practicing my monster groans along the way.  Upon reaching the library doors, I croaked out a final "braaaaaaains" before reverting back to my usual voice, "or close enough." And then waving my identity bracelet to get the attention of an escort.  

If it were aware of my stunt in the exercise room or in the hall, it didn't show it.  The grey alien just followed me as I poked around, looking for a good place to sit down.  I could have done this in the lounge, but the library had more private nooks, reclining armchairs, and most importantly, the articles showed images.  I also should have done this a lot sooner, but unfortunately, even though I clearly had 'leave me alone' body language going on, somehow I could never really be left alone in the library...

The escort at least gives me more space when I sit down in an armchair near a fake fireplace, making it clear I'm accessing the news articles and databases through the console there.   They tend to get more personal when it comes to actual physical books. But sitting and using the console system? Yeah, I figure it means they get bored much.

I pull up the article that Eddy had been looking at before, the one about the missing terrorists and the legal rights groups. I scanned it for pictures, but found nothing conclusive.  Just pictures of the rights groups leaders in charge of the case, and the building targeted in the attack.  

Then I frowned. While the article had the Earth publication date, it also had the date of arrival and release at the institution.  I had hoped to use the the difference between those dates to search the database for more articles about that particular attack.  However, the institution is using a totally different calendar!

I stared at the alien script on the screen. No freakin' way.  Experimentally, I tried highlighting it, to see whether a drop-down menu would appear, to give me the option to translate it to a timeframe I understand. Nope, no such luck. Gonna have to do this the fun way.

I sighed, and then cracked my knuckles. First I checked the subjects assigned to the article, opening each in a separate window.  Then I configured each to arrange by date, earliest first, and scanned the titles.  Flipping back and forth between the windows, I compared titles going back...and bingo! Found the news article detailing my arrest.

Making sure to bookmark it for my rooms tablet, I scrolled through what looked like a front page story. Huh, we did intend for it to be big news, even if things didn't really go to plan... I suppose some news articles have images that can be distressing to certain people - I don't know who - which is why we can only see them in the library, with the added presence of extra staff.  I doubt I'm one of those people.  I'm just staring at an image of myself in handcuffs, looking way too young, underfed and scrawny, and rather beaten up, as I'm being led away.  I hadn't even registered the camera nearby, I had looked straight into it as it flashed and didn't blink, from the looks of it.  Damn, that was a good shot.  

Unfortunately, it also made me look like a minor, and the article seemed to be under the impression that the so-called terrorists were young brainwashed kids.  Right right, we would be gently de-programmed and then released into the loving arms of our parents or else the forgiving care of the State, of course.  

Except not.  

I ground my teeth as I search the articles that came after.  There wasn't a lot, a slow trickle of data, lip service to freedom of information really, some names and faces of the 'leaders'. More like random people from my crew, cause my name and info wasn't released.  It explains the legal rights group; they provide services for minors.

I pull up the newest article again and stare at the pictures, the people leading the case to investigate the missing inmates, including leaders from the group.  I scratch my head, cause really, this is absurd; why didn’t Earth Gov foresee this sort of thing happening when my picture was taken and printed?  Once my DNA was run through the system, it would be easy-peasy for them to put my name out as one of the leaders, with my actual name and stats.  Now they got this headache of a legal group - don’t get me wrong, I’m kinda flattered - advocating on my behalf.

Cause nothing says suspicious like an apparent minor going missing while in prison. Except I’m not… and oh boy… I clasp my hands over my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud.

At least I know what’s happening.  At least there’s someone else that’s paying attention.  But here I am, not even on the planet, and still causing Earth Gov trouble.

 

I close down the tabs.  I know what I’m looking for to keep up to date now. I do some more skimming in the articles, cause I don’t really want to leave the library, and I know from experience that if I just sit here thinking, eventually the staff will escort me out. Which is a shame, there’s something peaceful about being surrounded by books, real physical books.  The smell of glue and paper pulp, the weight of words in the air. Like wisdom is free flowing and if you just sit there long enough, you can figure out anything.

If I just had enough time.

I push the console away, sighing and leaning back.  I rub at my eyes, suddenly finding myself fighting to keep them open.  I try to get up, but I just don’t have the strength and I’m nearly falling over when my escort catches me.

“I just…” My words feel slurred and I’m not sure what I’m going to say.  My eyelids are much heavier now.  I’m still fighting to stay awake, but I see another grey alien approaching and…

 

I didn’t even make it down to the floor.  It must have been only a few hours later when I awoke.  Not quite refreshed, just less sleepy.  And in my own bed.  

Inwardly cursing, I wobble to the bathroom.  They hadn’t bothered to change me into my pajamas, which is both good and bad.  Good, cause I wouldn’t want them undressing me while I was asleep, bad cause my clothes still stink of sweat and ick.  And, well, sleeping in icky clothes isn’t fun.

Fuck it.

I take a shower and grab clean clothes.  Still not sure when and how they take our dirty clothes, but I’ve never had more than a few clothes on the floor at a time.

“Still time for food?” I ask the screen as I slipped on my shoes.  

“Correct, though you are welcome to break fast with Clytia.”

I froze.  “Is that an invitation or an appointment?”

“She has booked you for an appointment immediately after you eat, should you not eat with her,” the computer beamed at me.  My eyes narrowed.  Like hell I’ll break bread with a Shivali.

“After,” I say, wishing I could say ‘never’. But I guess it’ll do for an exit line.

In the dining room, I get a plate pile with eggs and toast, a bowl of oatmeal, two mugs of coffee, and milk.  Sitting alone, I took my time enjoying the meal, dragging it out as much as possible, until Clytia arrived, accompanied by two of the rusty guards.

“Luka, if you’d please join me for the rest of your breakfast,” she smiled at me.  I crinkled my nose.  Really? She couldn’t let me finish my food at my own pace? I was just about to tell her off when one of the goons took my tray, handing it to Clytia.   

“Hey!” I wobbled as I shot to my feet, fists clenched on the table.  

“If you care to join me,” the Shivali turned and walked away, taking my tray with her.

Fuming, I looked around.  Only the people closest were acknowledging what was going on, everyone else was pointedly not paying attention.  And the rusties were shifting into flanking.

“Fine,” I huffed, hunching my shoulders, my hands trying to stuff themselves into non-existing pockets. I followed the Shivali with my rusty guards.  

Another elevator ride, and we we were in that pink room again, with the couch and comfy chair.  But there was a coffee table, high enough that I totally understood when Clytia put my tray down on it.  Being sleep deprived makes me startle easily, so I jumped a bit when the door closed, but I noticed that the guards hadn’t joined us.

“No guards?”

“I don’t think we really need them,” the Shivali said with another one of those small smiles.  

“Huh,” I tilted my head, looking at table.  “You going to have anything?”

“Oh!” She looked startled for a microsecond before recomposing herself.  “Oh, I was just going to have some tea.” She touched the table and it did that little magic trick of summoning a teapot and a cup from impossibility. I’m starting to feel a twitch developing in my eye.  

But she looks at me, like she totally knew what she meant before about me joining her, and I snort to myself. Then I let my bones collapse into a heap onto the couch, more or less ending up upright somehow. I consider my tray, not quite as hungry for the rest of it anymore.  But she’s there, watching, sipping her tea, waiting.

So I snatch a slice of toast and start munching on it. “So, this couldn’t wait? Honestly, what the blazes has got you in such a hurry? It’s not like I’m going anywhere fast.” Ah shit, I’m also really chatty when I’m sleep deprived.  I grab and chug about half a mug of coffee, at least half, maybe more.  Gotta be awake, at least somewhat alert for this.  

“Since you’ve had quite a while, I’m just checking in on how you’re settling in,” Clytia replies over her tea cup.  

“Yes, I’m sure that’s all. Cause you know, coincidence isn’t a thing.”

She gave a very human shrug. “There are some other concerns as well.”

“I bet.” I rub my eyes and sigh.  “I couldn’t sleep.  It’s a thing, it happens.  I dealt with it.  Why do you care?”

“Well, the medical scans indicate-"

"No," I sit up and lean forward, the palms of my hands pressed against the table. "Why. Do. You. Care?" I look her straight in the eyes, willing her to answer me. Did she flinch? Her eyes darted away for a second, but came back to meet mine.  

"I," she took a deep breath. "It's complicated. Working with Humans, to try and repair the rift, is seen as..." She did that little hand-wave gesture as she looked for the right words. "Noble, the highest ambition, no," she seemed frustrated. "The highest humility.  My family - I have worked for this, was chosen for this through aptitude testing..."

"So you're trained to care?"

"After the rift, we are obliged -”

“Wait, first you create the problem, and now you have a savior complex? That’s messed up.” I shake my head.  “And this,” I gesture around me, taking in the entire institution, “is you trying to make things better?”

Clytia sighs, leaning back in her chair and putting down her cup. “Would you rather be back in a Terran prison?”

“At least it’s honest about what it is, I’d be at home, and not talking to the aliens who did this to us.” She knows exactly what I mean.  The Shivali did this to us, like we’d forget and forgive too easily. She paused and was quiet for a moment.

“Would you prefer if someone else was your Emotional Support?  I can make a request for you, even if it takes a while to find someone.” She seemed to be trying to regain that professional distance and calm.  I thought about it, a new alien, possibly a species that I didn’t know.  Now it was my turn to look away and scowl.

“I’m not sure.” I’d rather the devil I knew, but like hell I’m telling her that.  But she seemed relieved, cause she let out a slow breath.

“Despite the many peoples in the Unified Council, only so many are qualified to have even protected contact with Humans, the quarantine is so enforced.  There are less people qualified for casual contact, so finding you new Emotional Support would take a while, but not impossible, should you want it.”

I shifted in my seat. “I’ll think about it.”  Yes yes, I get what you’re saying, there aren’t too many options for me if I want a new counsellor, especially if I’m being bitchy about species. And even if there were options, I’d be stuck with Clytia the Shivali until a new one could be found.  There are reasons why, despite getting our tech back, despite all our advantages, humans haven’t been expanding into space anymore.  Not very much, anyways.   

“Until then, I’m honoured for the opportunity to work with you.”

I narrowed my eyes as I looked at her, and crinkled my nose. “That’s kind of ridiculous.” I was starting to feel restless again, so I got up and started pacing behind the couch. Clytia just calmly watched me. “Work with me?  And what exactly are we going to work on?”  I stopped and leaned over the couch.  “This is a hamster cage.  You’re trying to do what, understand humans better?  This is a prison, you’re not going to get typical human behaviour here.  So what else is there for you? Oh, of course,” I stepped back from the couch, letting my voice drip with disdain. “There’s always our biology.” I snort and walk to the wall, leaning against it and crossing my arms.  “I really don’t think you need me for that.”

Not entirely true; they don’t need me talking to a shrink for that, nor do they need me particularly willing to get me in a room with scanners and whatnot.  Never mind what kind of tech they keep in the air of this place… but I’m trying not to think about what it would be like should they decide they don’t need to be nice with me anymore.

“In many ways, you’re right,” Clytia seemed to sigh. “We do try to study some aspects of human behaviour here; it’s not perfect, of course. But the main focus of the research is on human immune systems.” She tried a shrug.  “Other biological discoveries are sort of a by-product from that. And in the meanwhile - ”

“In the meanwhile, none of us can leave.”

“We can’t let you go back to Terra, no.  Both because Terran government has exiled you, and because we can’t be sure it’s safe, since you’ve had contact with other species.”

Ah, right.  They wouldn’t want to wipe the rest of us out.  

“So your solution is this place?” I gestured to include all of the facility. “It’s just another prison.”

“You do have choices here, especially if you talk to me, Luka,” Clytia opened her hands palm up, as if pleading with me.  She really must have practiced human gestures, but it was still alien to me.

“I really don’t see how you can change things for me.” Realizing I was slouching, I straightened, waking myself up at the same time.  No time to be nodding off!

Clytia bit her lower lip a little. “Alright then, small steps.  Is there anything that I can get for you.”

“I -” I stopped, and stared down at my hands, itching for pockets to stuff them into. “Okay, sure.  I want a sweater, with pockets.” Let’s see whether they’ll actually get me something like that.  

“I’ll do my best,” Clytia nodded. “Is there anything else?”

“No,” I scratched my eyebrow. “Can I go now?”

Yeah, the caffeine in the coffee is definitely not enough, I was starting to droop right there. Really did not want to fall asleep standing up, for one thing, and definitely not in a shrink's office.

I think I caught it, but I'm not sure, I think Clytia glanced down at something I couldn't see.  Damnit, of course they were monitoring me and sending her updates.  

“It’s alright,” Clytia smiled gently. “We can pick this up later.”  She must of hit something, because the guards came back in.  She nodded at them before they approached me.  I pushed myself off the wall, and let them lead me away.  

  
  


It was an uneventful trip back to my room.  No really, nothing happened. At the most, I glared at my guards. But then we were at my room, and they were standing right there, so I went in.  

I really can’t say I’m surprised when the door locked.  At that point, I really didn’t care either.  All I cared about was my bed, I didn’t even bother to change before collapsing on my blanket and passing out the moment my head hit the pillow.

  
  


There are some nights when I don’t remember my dreams.  And then there’s some dreams that won’t let you forget, even as you’re clawing your way back into wakefulness. And then other dreams that feel like you never went to sleep, and you’ll never wake up.

Sleep is a very peculiar thing for humans.  I mean, there’s only so many sentient species that dream, and there’s quite a few animals that dream, but apparently humans are the only overlap, as far as the rest of the universe is concerned.  We’re the only ones that hallucinate while in a torpor state, and it’s good for us.  

Usually.

I generally consider it a bad thing when I wake up screaming.

 

 


	7. Scream

To be honest, I don’t remember much other than the screaming. Some blurs of motion, a sense of someone trying to calm me, at the very best. But mainly, screaming. So much screaming.  
I didn’t really wake up normally after that. I know I blanked out again, because the light was different, and the screaming had stopped. I had stopped.  
And I was waking up so slowly, so sluggishly. My throat hurt. Scratchy, sore. I coughed a little, trying to wake myself more, trying to focus more. Everything felt heavy. How did everything get so heavy?  
My eyes were open, but it was a fight to keep my eyelids open and not to drift back to sleep. I rolled my head and saw a blur that was my hand. I narrowed my concentration on my sight, and finally, it slipped into focus. Good, that’s good.  
And then I tried to move my hand. The tips of my fingers twitched, but otherwise, my hand didn’t move. More alarmed, I tried to push myself up. But my body felt heavy and didn’t respond. All I managed to do was groan.  
"You might not want to try moving quite yet," a voice said. It sounded familiar, but I couldn't see whoever it was. "Here, let me." I saw sterile white, a biohazard suit, and then I was being gently lifted and repositioned. When done, I was propped up by my pillows, so that I could see my visitor properly.  
I blinked, my eyes needing to focus, and then I recognized the alien. "Folami," my voice sounded hoarse. Given my vague recall of screaming, I really shouldn't be surprised. But the alien seemed pleased I remembered his name.  
“Yes, that’s me,” he pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. “I’d like to ask, do you remember what happened after you went to sleep?”  
I’m very glad that I could control enough of my expression, so I could blink blankly at him. “Not really. Screaming, vaguely.”  
“Ah,” he made some notes on a tablet. “So, you don’t remember attacking anyone?”  
The heck? “No,” I couldn’t feel my face make what should be shock. My eyes should be wide, my mouth hanging open, my hands clutching the sheets. I felt frozen in place. At the very most, my fingers twitched.  
“Other than screaming, do you remember anything at all?”  
I looked down at my hands. “No,” I lied.  
“Okay then,” he made an aborted attempt to pat my hand, I’m sure. I flinched before he reached me with his biohazard gloves. Those aren’t exactly the most comfortable things to have try pat your hand. “We’ll go over the record data and get this all worked out.”  
What really can you say about that? Honestly? I couldn’t really say anything anyways. So we both just sat there, in silence. He might be waiting for something, either for me to speak, or to fall back asleep. I really don’t want to sleep more. Especially when I can’t move!  
However…  
“Who?” It is very frustrating to have to distill speech into one or two words, but it kinda hurt my throat to speak. “I attack who?”  
Did he sigh? I think he sighed. It’s kinda hard to tell through the suit. But he tapped his tablet again. “Two staff, a regular floor staff, and Clytia, your Emotional Support worker.”  
Shit. Two people. And one of them was Clytia. My fingers curled, not quite enough strength for a fist. No wonder they drugged me. “So,” I swallowed, trying to sooth my throat and maybe not be so nervous. “What now?”  
He shrugged, very exaggerated through his suit. Yes, so much training on human gestures. I idly wonder what it must have been like, to try and learn the complexity and contradictions of human non-verbal language. Do they have to translate their gestures into human, or do they ‘think’ in human? But his answer is more important.  
“Now, we wait for what the data says, to see what happened and what should happen.” Another few taps on the tablet. “But, it is for sure that Clytia will be reassigned.”  
“What?” Ah good, some of my impulsive reflects are coming back. I stared at him, and this time yes, my eyes widened.  
“It is standard to reassign Emotional Support workers of her class after an incident like this. The relationship between you two has been compromised, tainted. It’s safer.”  
“Safer, okay, right.” No, don’t be sarcastic now. That is a bad idea. Bad idea! “How are they?” Yes, let’s go with the most simplest gender neutral terms; who knows what those grey aliens refer to themselves as, or even if they have genders? And whether any of them understand the other pronouns.  
“Oh, both of them will be alright, none of their injuries were serious.”  
“Oh, good.” Right. Pronouns. Well, I suppose it’s good that the Shivali is okay; heavens knows that I do end up attacking and hurting someone, I want to actually remember it and have it mean something. But for this? No, I don’t want to get marked for this, so it’s better that I didn’t do too much damage.  
For this next one, I had to make sure that my throat was clear before trying. “So, is it a matter of me attacking, or the injuries?” Ouch, that was a strain, but I did it.  
He was silent, considering what I was asking. “I think it hasn’t come to that, before that we need to know what happened. We look for evidence, for data and information, then we make decisions.” I had nothing to say to that, but he was not done. "So, what do you think happened?"  
He sounded like he was trying to be soothing? But also a bit nervous. It's a bit harder to figure out alien through a biohazard suit.  
"You are not my shrink," I told him. Don't he be trying to be my 'Emotional Support'.  
"No, no, just want to know what you think happened, from what you remember."  
I gave my best attempt at a shrug, and managed to lift my shoulders a little. "I had a bad dream, it happens." It happens when… oh god no don’t think about it… it happens when after all you’ve had happen to you, you end up locked in a hamster cage for the rest of your life, just waiting for your mind to finally rot to mush. I suppress a shudder.  
“It… happens?”  
“Yeah, sometimes nightmares just happen.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re not my shrink.”  
He sighed. “Okay.” He pulled a tablet from somewhere out of my view, and tapped on it. “The data we have on what happened wasn’t very conclusive; we’d like to keep you in temporary isolation and do some observations for at least a few nights.”  
Oh yes, it’ll only be a few nights, right? Why do they even pretend to ask for my consent? It’s not like I can really say no, can I? I can’t really stop them. I made some non-committal noise, and looked away.  
Folami sighed again. “It might be boring, of course. There’s been some updates to the tablets; there’s some art programs and games, if you want to check them out.” He took my tablet from my nightstand and put it in front of me.  
Well, why not? Not trusting my strength, I poked at the tablet. 

Being confined to bed, even unofficially, is boring. Bit by bit, my strength did return, but I still felt kind of shaky and weak. Like a brisk breeze would knock me over. Trying to go to the washroom was embarrassing; I had to lean on Folami for support to stand up. I could walk, but tentatively. I glared at Folami to get him to give me some privacy.  
For the longest time we sort of sat there not talking, both of us poking away at our tablets. He had moved his chair back a little to give me room, but it was very obvious that he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. Would he even be watching me when I’m sleeping? Ick, creepy.  
Our silence was only broken when the door chimed. He stood and opened the door, collected a tray, and the door closed. This was apparently my meal, but I was not to feed myself. I was too drugged still to hold the spoon. So Folami pulled up his chair next to my bed, the tray on his lap, and spooned me portions of stir-fried (I think) chicken and vegetables on top of rice. If it wasn’t for the spoon-feeding, I don’t think I would have minded the food so much.  
When I had eaten, someone came to pick up the tray, and we were left to our tablets again. I tried some of the games. Previously, I had scoffed at some of the really easy games and entertainments provided on the tablet, programs with little content and were really simplistic. But now I know why they’re on there, for when someone is drugged to the gills.  
I don’t know how long I poked at my little screen, matching tiles in a solitaire game, dragging large puzzle pieces, swiping at various objects dancing before me. At some point, I know I tried to play on harder difficulty settings, on levels that I’m used to, but it made my eyes hurt and my brain feel like it was clogged and caught and blocked. I’d simply stare at the screen until finally realizing what I was doing, and jabbed at the screen to get something that made more sense and less aching.  
I’m pretty sure there was another meal in there somewhere, not much of one, mainly a hearty soup. They seem to be feeding me easy to spoon-feed foods. With my head feeling so fuzzy and my limbs still a little wobbly, I don’t think I really have much room to complain, but I kinda feel like I should make the effort anyways. So be a dear and imagine that I did mutter and complain under my breath, cause if I had been feeling like myself, I would have been.  
At this point, I kinda dreaded going back to sleep. But it’s not really something that can be put off. At some point, a human has to sleep. It’s sort of necessary for us to function; we need it more than food, but maybe not as much as water.  
For some time, my eyelids were starting to feel heavy, and I was fighting the urge to just lie down. I didn’t want to. I know what I’m going to see, what they want me to repeat, and it’s going to be worse.  
But Folami was there, gently touching my shoulder. “Luka, it’s time for bed.” He had put down his tablet and was reaching for mine. I told myself there are other battles to fight, that now is not the time, to try and lessen the sting as the tablet just slipped through my fingers. I sighed inwardly. Might as well get it over with.  
Lying back down was a bit awkward, I tried to do it on my own. I did manage it. And then Folami tucked me in. Gods, he tucked me in! And then I was closing my eyes… 

and I remembered it all.  
Screaming. Screaming my throat raw.  
Bright light stabbing into my eyes.  
A mask, forced down onto my face, air pushing down into my lungs. 

Fighting. Can’t move. A flash of metal and  
pain  
Slicing. Stabbing. Cutting.  
I scream, but the mask swallows it, pushes it down and back  
lemme go stop it stop it stopitstopitstopitstopit

A wordless screech  
Wide eyes  
Overturned bed (did I do that?) 

A babbling of noise and sound and noise and it’s voices and one of them is mine and one of them is his and oh god I’m yelling and  
“Don’t touch me!” I’m breathing great big huge lungfuls, my throat feels cracked and sore again. Folami has his hands raised, palms towards me, and took a step backwards.  
“It’s okay, it’s okay, Luka. You’re okay,” He might have been a bit more soothing without the hazard suit, but given the waking up with an alien next to me, maybe not… “You’re safe. It’s okay.”  
“Just, don’t touch me.” I take a slower breath, trying to calm my heart pounding in my chest. I can do this. My skin and nerves feel wired, twitching at the slight feeling of fabric rasping against me. The lights had been turned back on, at least dimly, but still felt too bright. My eyes kept darting around, trying to take stock of everything while watching Folami at the same time.  
“I won’t touch you,” he said. “I’m just going to get this.” I tensed as he stepped forward, but forced myself to exhale when he just grabbed the overturned chair and retreated to the far side of the room with it. Unfortunately, this was also the side of the room with the door. Oh well, even if I could get over there, it would probably be locked.  
Okay, that’s okay. I’m okay.  
Don’t lie, no I’m not. Okay, no, I’m not okay. But I can deal with this. Right?  
I shudder, backing myself into my own corner, hugging myself. Don’t start shivering, that’ll be bad. Some sort of shock reaction, I don’t know, but it’ll be bad. I want the blanket off the bed, but my instincts are screaming at me not to move.  
To hell with them, I need that blanket. I am not going to do this, not now, not here. Especially not here. Keeping a nervous eye on Folami, I inched towards the bed lying overturned somewhere near the middle of the room. If he doesn’t make any sudden moves, then neither will I. Just a little more… and there!  
I grabbed the corner of my blanket, and yank it. The bed screeches against the floor, dragging along as I quickly move back into my corner. Now it’s making a barrier between me and the rest of the room, between me and Folami. I take a deep breath, fighting the rest of that previous thought. Silly me, even if I got out that door, where could I go? This is a prison, remember?  
It's okay, no it's not nothing is okay I'm in a cage and I'm going to scream! I'm going to scream! No, I'm not, I'm going to breath and take this one second at a time, I'm alive.  
He hadn’t moved throughout all of this, just sitting on the chair, waiting as I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders. I backed up until my back was right in the corner, walls on either side. No, no, I’m not going to think about how weird their tech is, with things moving through objects. I gotta trust that these walls are solid.  
It’s right about then I realize Folami hasn’t just been watching me all this time; he’s been having some sort of conversation in that suit of his. Probably an intercom of sorts. Probably talking to people sitting in some control room, wondering whether to swoop in.  
Even if they did, I'll do what I can do. Right, cause a fighting spirit is a perfect response of this situation. But it sure beats freaking the hell out. I had wondered how long it would take for the nightmares to start up again. Too bad I have no clue how long it's been since I was home.  
Okay, that's it, just take some deep steady breaths, just like everyone always tells you. It's a hit or miss exercise, but fuck it, it's all I got right now. More breaths, and we're just watching each other. I'm not going to scream.  
"Alright then," I say, breaking the silence, "what now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, all my formatting looks so much better in a document that actually contains indents and other forms of formatting.... Sigh... Allow me to complain that this was not written to be viewed this way, but actually is written in Google documents so really should be viewed that way. Anyways, any ideas of what Luka's nightmares are about? Any theories about anything? I got a lot of world building behind this, and it's always this see-saw of how much do you share and how, so feedback on whether any of that is getting through would be awesome.


End file.
